


Other

by laughablyunimportant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Brainwashing, F/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughablyunimportant/pseuds/laughablyunimportant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can the Condesce exert control over human minds?</p><p>She decides to experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago but never posted it!
> 
> Now that Homestuck is over, I'm going back and posting all my scraps and backdating them to when I think I originally wrote them.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

EB: you have mind control powers?

AG: Well yeeeeeeeeah, 8ut it only works on trolls.

EB: aw, that would have made for such great pranking! Are you suuuuuuuure it doesn't work on humans?

AG: Yes I'm sure!!!!!!!! I tried and it just puts you guys to sleep ::::/  
AG: I miiiiiiiight have been 8ble to control that loser I was talking a8out and m8de him control humans, 8ut he's dead now.

EB: oh. alright, i guess it wouldn't have been that funny anyway.

AG: Don't you mean thaaaaaaaat funny?

EB: hehehe whoops, yeah ::::)

* * *

He'd felt this before. Something reaching in and pushing a button, flicking a switch inside him just before the lights went out. Only this time, the lights didn't stay out very long.

He collapsed in sleep, and felt it, vibrating along the tendril of something _other_ inside his mind, irritation and maybe just the tiniest bit of confusion before it poked and prodded at him harder, incorporeal touch bruising his metaphysical self in the least literal way. He wasn't sure how to describe it, except that he wished it would stop, because the really big troll with the mass of black hair wearing a red apron seemed distinctly batterwitch-y, and sleeping in front of her was probably a _bad idea_.

Then his eyes opened, and the unease swirling in his gut coalesced into outright panic, because _he hadn't done that_.

He pushed himself up from where he'd fallen on the ground, hyperaware of the way his muscles tensed and moved, of the stiffness to his posture, straining and pushing and feeling useless because nothing was moving this wasn't him he wasn't doing this _no no no no_

"Interesting." His head snapped up, except it didn't, because it wasn't doing what he wanted it to, but he focused on the troll woman again, and yeah, that was definitely a Betty Crocker apron. This was not good, _not. good._

"Come here," she said, and he stumbled forward, some mix of sleepy-fuzzbrained-suggestibility and brute mental force bringing him to stand just a foot from her, within arm's reach. 

She lifted a hand, running one claw along the line of his jaw, the hairs on his arms and neck rising in response, though he didn't so much as flinch away from her. "Your brains are funny," she said. "Neither troll nor animal, but somewhere in between."

Suddenly one of his hands jerked up, and he got the vague idea that he were supposed to be hitting himself, but it came as little more than a light, open-palmed pap before his hand dropped to his side again. The troll frowned.

"Hit yourself," she said aloud, and his hand jerked up again, but was no more forceful than the first time. She ground her teeth, lips curling in an ugly snarl. "Stay still," was all the warning he got before she brought her own hand up, claws reaching for his face, and with a burst of panic, John dropped, the breeze from her strike ruffling his hair as he sat on the floor, completely still and obedient, except for the part where he, you know, wasn't. 

She growled then, a real and proper feral sound, and kicked at him, catching him in the gut and making him curl up and gasp. She shoved her foot in his face, slippered toes catching the underside of his chin and forcing him to look up even as she said "Look at me" and the foreign thing inside him _curled_. There was basically no way he was going to be able to resist that.

She seemed pleased that he'd obeyed so readily, and his heart pounded as he tried to figure out what was going on and how to _get himself out_. 

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound low and predatory. "Oh, you're not getting yourself _out_. You're interesting, I'll give you that, but if you prove too difficult a subject, I'll just kill you. It's not as though one more human death will trouble me any."

He ground his teeth and spat out, "Fuck you." She looked furious, and he thought maybe he'd gone too far, but then he was falling away, sleep closing in on him once more.

* * *

For a second time, John opened his eyes without being the one to will them open. 

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since the something else (which was pretty obviously the batterwitch at this point) knocked him out, but he still ached from lying in an awkward pile of limbs on the hard floor, so when he felt the command to stand up, he didn't fight it. He let her pull him close again, forming a vague plan about lulling her into a false sense of security and then POW, right in the kisser!

Then she leaned down, hair seeming to rustle and slither until it was surrounding him, like something alive and dangerous. Then she tilted his head up with a single finger placed under his chin. Then she brought their lips together and kissed him.

The _something else_ wriggled and pulsed inside him, hitting **happiness** , hitting **pleasure** , hitting **lust** and **love** and pumping dopamine into his system until he kissed back, until his hands rose up of his own accord to cup her face, to slide around to the back of her neck, to twist in her hair as he made soft whimpering sounds against her lips and tried to drag out every little drop of **good** that _other_ would give him.

She pulled away after a time, and maybe he would have thought about it, about what had just happened and tear himself away and run as fast and far as he could, but the _other_ tap tap tapped inside him, dimmed the lights, and he was swaying on his feet, thoughts scattered and floating just out of reach. 

"You're a good pet, aren't you?" she said, and if there was something cruel to it, it was beyond John's ability to comprehend, on the cusp of sleep as he was. "You liked that, didn't you?" 

He nodded, venturing a mumbled "Yes" when the _other_ inside prompted him to say it. 

"Do you want more?" she asked. "Do you want to be my pet? Do you want to _obey_ me?"

He nodded, but when he opened his mouth, the words seemed to stick in his throat. He hesitated, and if he'd been paying attention, he would have noticed the troll's lips curved in a cruel smile as the fog in his brain seemed to lift and he straightened, looking her in the eyes when he spat out a rough and raw " _No_."

 _Tap_.

 **Pain**.

It arced through him, sudden and _there_ , overwhelmingly _there_. Pain like fire, like that time the outlet sparked and electricity shot up his arm, except over his whole body and worse, so much worse and it didn't _stop_.

He gasped and shuddered, curled up on the floor, and then she was picking him up, muscle-corded arms curling around him to press him close to her and the pain _stopped_ and it felt _wonderful_. 

"Shush," she crooned.

 _Shush_ , the _other_ whispered inside his head.

He shushed, and something tingling and pleasant started along his spine even as the heavy tiredness returned to coat his thoughts and make them muggy-thick. 

"Do you want to obey me?" she asked from somewhere above, and he nodded, mouth opening and saying "Yes" without him telling it to, but without him telling it not to, either.

"Good," she said, and somewhere very, very distant, the squished-down _John-person_ inside a body hollowed-out and _other_ shivered.


End file.
